


Cole Being Cole Makes Cullen Uncomfortable

by RedTigerRose



Series: Writing Prompts [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Cullen, Banter, Cole (Dragon Age) Being Cole, Cole (Dragon Age) Talks A Lot, Desk Sex, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Herald's Rest, M/M, POV Varric Tethras, Sex Talk, The Hanged Man (mentioned), Wicked Grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 04:33:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14394369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTigerRose/pseuds/RedTigerRose
Summary: Writing prompt:"Well, I thought it was funny."During a game of Wicked Grace, Cole digs a little too deep inside Cullen's head.





	Cole Being Cole Makes Cullen Uncomfortable

Varric had become quite concerned about the lack of play and all work that was becoming the norm for the inner circle of Inquisition members. So, he had taken it upon himself to declare that, once a week, they would all meet at the Heralds Rest for a game of Wicked Grace and some bevies to blow off steam. It started off with just himself, Sera, Blackwall, and Iron Bull, playing cards at one of the round tables at the back of the Tavern and sharing jokes. Eventually, however, other members started to show up as the weeks went by until eventually, they had to push together several tables to accommodate everybody.

  
Trying to convince Cullen to join in had been one of Varric’s top priorities, as he believed the commander did not enjoy himself much and that was not good for his health. Despite everything that had been happening in recent years, Varric was a big believer in equal balances of work and play, and lack of the latter lead to some serious consequences. The day that the commander finally came through the door on the evening of their weekly meetings, Varric had raised his mug in greeting. The commanders’ boots scuffled the hay-strewn floor as he cautiously made his way to the table, taking his seat and taking the mug of ale that Varric handed to him.

  
“Glad you finally made it, Curly,” Varric said.

  
Cullen was about to respond when his eyes shot quickly to the door, where Evelyn had just entered in a flurry of warm furs and cool air. Varric raised his eyebrows as he took another swig of ale, knowing that the Inquisitor herself was the prime motivation of Cullen’s attendance this evening.

  
Being a writer, a merchant, and a generally nosy bastard at best, Varric had always had a knack for reading people. It had become clear to him early on in the beginnings of the Inquisition that Cullen was attracted to Evelyn. The way he stumbled over his words around her, a blush rising in his cheeks that had naught to do with the winter chill. The way his eyes always found her in a crowded room.

  
But, what was this? As the redheaded mage made her way past the commander, her fingers touched his shoulder in greeting ever so lightly, and yet Varric saw the electricity that surged between them. A simple touch and it was over, and the rest of the table carried on with their laughter and banter, but Varric saw it. The way they locked eyes for a moment, her lips curling into a shy smile that reached the glint in her eyes, the easy smile that spread across his usually stern features.

  
_Well, I’ll be damned_ , Varric thought to himself, a sly grin spreading on his lips.

  
Chuckling to himself as Evelyn sat a couple of seats away from Cullen - as though sitting together would make it clear to the rest of the table - Varric started setting up the cards for their first game.

  
The music from the lute filled the tavern as Varric order another round of ale for their table. Sera was becoming increasingly annoyed with Cole for announcing to the table what she was thinking about as she pondered over her cards.

  
“I can’t win with that thing sitting next to me,” she growled.

  
“You can’t win anyway because you’re shit at cards,” Blackwall responded.

  
Iron Bull filled an extra cup of ale and handed it to Cole. “I want to see you drink all of this,” he said.

  
Cole held up the cup with a curious look on his face. “Wheat, blowing in the wind. The wind is warm. Summertime. Two lovers walk hand in hand through the field, out of sight. No one can know that they are together - ”

  
“Just drink the ale, kid,” Varric laughed as he shuffled his cards. “Curly, your deal.” He said, handing Cullen the cards.

  
“If there is one thing I miss about home, it is the fine wine,” announced Dorian to no one in particular. “I’ll have to make do with this mud-water you southerners love so much.”

  
Iron Bull rolled his eyes. “As if it stops you from getting drunk and emotional.”

  
“Me, emotional?” Dorian exclaimed, a hand to his chest in mock horror.

  
“Sparkles, pass down the jug of your mud-water,” Varric called down the table. “My cup’s empty and I’m getting thirsty.” He grinned to himself as the jug was passed down amidst a flurry of laughter, knowing that at least he had done something good for the Inquisition - everyone was able to forget their problems momentarily, and enjoy each other’s company. Even Cassandra was cracking a smile as she discussed something or other with Josie and Vivienne, her cheeks flushed with the beautiful effects of alcohol. Varric saw the way Blackwall kept sharing glances with the Antivan beauty, running a hand through his hair and drumming his fingertips on the table. He watched as Blackwall and Sera shared a dozen inside jokes, and how Sera would always grab Iron Bull’s attention and nod towards a passing serving girl with a look of glee plastered on her face. Varric also noticed how Dorian would look slightly annoyed when Iron Bull would turn his attention to the serving girl in question, silently taking a sip from his cup through stiff lips. Varric pondered on that momentarily - he knew that Dorian preferred the company of men, but Dorian and Iron Bull…?

  
Dorian’s attention would then be grabbed by Evelyn, who would hurriedly whisper something into his ear that would gain a peal of laughter from the Tevinter mage. Although Dorian had been a bit of an outsider, forcing his way into the Inquisition after the Redcliffe fiasco, he had become fast friends with Evelyn. Yet, the young redheaded mage had that effect on people. Varric would be hard pressed to find anyone who did not get along well with the Inquisitor.

  
Another round of Wicked Grace and Iron Bull had finally convinced Cole to take a sip of his cup of ale. “I don’t like it,” he said, to which Blackwall took the cup from him and poured the contents into his own tankard.

  
“Perhaps he would like wine instead?” said Dorian, running a finger along his upper lip.

  
“I doubt we are able to get any wine in these parts,” Varric said with a chuckle. “Can’t be picky when you live in the middle of nowhere.”

  
“As long as it gets me drunk, I don’t care,” said Iron Bull, and everyone raised a cup and cheered to that.

  
Cullen, who had now had three ales, was becoming more talkative and was discussing techniques with sword and shield with Blackwall. Varric rolled his eyes with a grin; even in casual settings, the commander would still find a way to discuss strategy. The conversation took a turn when Iron Bull butted in to share his thoughts on how he didn’t believe in hiding behind a shield and thought there was more pleasure in using both hands to bash an opponent’s head to a pulp. Cullen and Blackwall both became defensive - and the irony was not lost on Varric - about their differing techniques.

  
“Or you could just shoot baddies in the arse with arrows,” said Sera, to which Varric agreed.

  
“Cole, get down from the table,” said Cassandra with the voice of a tired mother.

  
“This is why I like being a mage,” Dorian said to Evelyn. “Who cares about weapons when you are a weapon.”

  
Evelyn nodded, laughing.

  
“Cole, down,” Cassandra barked.

  
Cole slowly climbed down from the table as Varric started dealing out more cards for another round of Wicked Grace. Josie was getting braver - the alcohol probably helped - and upped the ante with a silver piece.

  
This round, Cole didn’t even touch his cards, but sat and sang along to the sounds of the lute as the others played their game.

  
“I remember the first time I got drunk,” said Blackwall, watching the strange boy with interest.

  
“I don’t,” Sera said. “I woke up with a bangin’ headache and no trousers.”

  
“I was sick all over myself,” Blackwall continued. “Woke up covered in bruises too. Think I got in a fight with a chicken.”

  
“What did the chicken ever do to you?” said Josie, looking slightly worried at the thought of the big warrior battling with a bird.

  
“Don’t worry, the chicken won,” Sera sniggered.

  
“My father allowed me to drink wine at functions when I was a girl,” said Josie with a sly smile. “Just a little bit, but enough to make my head swim.”

  
Evelyn shuffled in her seat, a coy smile on her lips. “I once stole a bottle of wine from the kitchens at Ostwick circle, but it had been opened for a long time and was mostly vinegar.”

  
“Oh, Maker, how was that?” said Cassandra.

  
“Terrible. I still drank it all, though,” she said with a shrug, taking a sip of her ale. “Then I threw it back up.”

  
“Did you ever get caught?” said Josie.

  
“No,” laughed Evelyn. “One of the Templars found me throwing up in a storage closet and took me to the infirmary. They thought I was just sick - actually, now that I think about it, being a female mage they were probably trying to make sure I wasn’t just pregnant.”

  
“Maker forbid the mages breed!” Exclaimed Dorian. “You southerners are so strange with your laws.”

  
“But at least we aren’t expected to marry our sister,” said Blackwall matter-of-factly, to a flurry of laughter across the table.

  
“I don’t happen to have a sister,” said Dorian.

  
“No sister means bachelor life in Tevinter,” said Sera to more laughter, but Dorian just frowned in confusion.

  
“Whoosh,” said Iron Bull as Evelyn choked on her ale.

  
“I used to have some of the best nights out when Hawke was still living in Kirkwall,” said Varric with a grin. “We once convinced the captain of the guard to come out with us. We actually got her so drunk we bet her she wouldn’t dance on the tables in the Hanged Man.”

  
“Did she?” said Josie, leaning in with interest.

  
“She sure did!” Said Varric with a hearty laugh. “Best thing I’ve ever seen.”

  
“No - wait, do you mean Ser Avaline?” said Cullen in disbelief.

  
“That’s the one,” said Varric proudly.

  
“Ser Aveline, the most serious woman I have ever met since - I don’t know when - ”

  
“Most serious since you? Yup, that’s the one,” answered Varric, chuckling at Cullen as he shook his head.

  
“What about you, commander,” said Josie. “First time you got drunk?”

  
Cullen cleared his throat, looking mildly uncomfortable. “I - would rather not talk about it - ”

  
“Why, did you bang an ugly barmaid or somethin’?” said Sera.

  
“Or your sister,” said Iron Bull, his large body shaking with laughter.

  
“Oh, shut up, I get it now,” said Dorian, folding his arms.

  
“It’s a good thing your pretty,” said Iron Bull, nudging the mage again with a big arm.

  
“Maker’s breath,” said Cullen, his cheeks reddening as he glanced at Evelyn. “Can we talk about something else?”

  
“Yes, please,” said Cassandra. “I want to win this game already.”

  
“What makes you think you've won?” said Varric.

  
“ _This_ ,” said Cassandra proudly as she placed her cards on the table.

  
“Well I’ll be a nug’s uncle,” said Varric as he begrudgingly pushed his money towards Cassandra while everyone else groaned.

  
“The Maker is with me today,” she said happily as she clapped her hands together.

  
“You’re getting greedy, Cass and greed is a sin,” said Varric as he signaled to the barmaid for another round.

  
“Dorian!” gasped Evelyn suddenly, bringing everyone’s attention to the two mages. Dorian was chuckling to himself as Evelyn tried to hide a smile. “You’re an ass.”

  
“What did he just say?” said Cassandra.

  
“I am not repeating what he just said,” Evelyn said with a laugh before finishing off her drink and reaching for the new pitcher of ale.

  
“Your cheeks get so pink when you’re embarrassed, Inquisitor,” Dorian practically squealed as he pinched her cheek.

  
She giggled and waved him away. “Stop!” she almost cried as she leaned too far and nearly fell from her stool, making her giggle even harder.

  
Iron Bull shook his horned head. “Get a room,” he grumbled as Evelyn pulled on Dorian’s mustache. “You’re both really annoying when you’re together.”

  
“I’m not doing anything,” said Evelyn defensively as the rest of them laughed.

  
“You’re encouraging him,” said Iron Bull with a tilt of his head. “Once he gets going he doesn’t stop.”

  
“Oh, you love it,” said Dorian as he reached for more ale. “We’re funny.”

  
“Cole,” sighed Cassandra. “You’re on the table again.”

  
“Oh,” said Cole.

  
“Is that sip of ale affecting him so badly?” said Blackwall.

  
“Well we really don’t know how ale affects spirits,” said Varric.

  
“Let’s give him more and find out,” said Iron Bull.

  
“No,” said Cassandra as Cole took a step and kicked over Sera’s cup, spilling its contents across the table.

  
“Maker’s sake, get down,” barked Cassandra.

  
Cullen stood up - albeit slightly off balance - and reached for the boy, picking him up as if he weighed nothing and putting him down on the floor.

  
“Oh,” said Cole again. “Thank you.” He observed the commander with his misty eyes as he sat back down in his seat next to Sera. “You’re disappointed. In yourself,” he said in his faraway voice.

  
“What?” said Cullen.

  
“Cole, don’t get into people’s heads,” said Iron Bull. “We talked about this.”

  
“You wanted it to be romantic, and it was romantic, in a way, she thinks,” said Cole. “It was still special but you didn’t think so. You wanted expensive wine and rose petals and silk sheets but instead you did things to her on your desk in the heat of a moment. Wait, but I don’t understand,” Cole suddenly turned to Evelyn, who by now had realized what Cole was talking about and was frozen in horror as the table listened. “Why were you on his desk and why weren’t you wearing clothes?”

  
The table was silent, and Varric felt pain in his stomach as he tried harder than he ever had in his life to not laugh.

  
“ _Cole_ ,” said Cassandra in barely a whisper. Josie had a hand over her mouth while Sera swallowed down a snigger. Dorian and Iron Bull were both shaking with silent laughter.

  
Cole, suddenly seeming distracted by something no one else could see slowly wandered away on silent feet.

  
Cullen, who was still standing, shifted uneasily on his feet. He cleared his throat. “I should - ah - go finished…something…” he said as he quickly hurried to the door.

  
As soon as the door shut behind his fur coat, Dorian let out a cry of laughter. “What!?” he cried. “Is he right?”

  
Evelyn, who had covered her red face with her hands, appeared above her fingers. She punched Dorian in the arm. “You asshole,” she groaned.

  
The rest of the table had now come out of their trance and started laughing, as Evelyn’s face now matched her hair.

  
“So much for your secret lover,” said Dorian, poking her in the ribs. “I should have known it was the commander.”

  
“No, you shouldn’t have,” said Evelyn, refilling her cup to the brim and taking three large gulps.

  
“So you mean it is him?” Dorian clapped his hands together.

  
“Oh, Maker,” said Evelyn as she buried her face in her arms.

  
Dorian threw his head back in laughter.

  
“Can’t have secrets with that lad around,” said Blackwall.

  
“Especially lusty ones,” said Cassandra as she and Josie got to their feet, putting their coats on and looking amused. The rest of the party were starting to move again. “It’s late, and we have much work to do tomorrow,” Cassandra said to the top of Evelyn’s head.

  
“Yeah, Evelyn has a lot of work to do on the commander’s desk,” said Dorian.

  
“The commander doesn’t want to do it himself anymore,” chimed in Iron Bull as Sera snorted.

  
“It’s really hard work…” said Dorian.

  
Evelyn shot up and punched him harder in the arm. “Asshole,” she said again as she got to her feet, putting her cloak around her shoulders and marching to the door.

  
“I love you,” Dorian called after her as she slammed the door. He looked around the table and those still remaining. “Well, I thought it was funny.”


End file.
